


Letters In the Morning

by Voidlesssilence



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voidlesssilence/pseuds/Voidlesssilence
Summary: It's late December 1941. Life for the Japanese-Americans is hard in the war-torn country, especially since the bombing of Pearl Harbor due to the discrimination that's ensued. Young Emil is trying to fight against the abuse and hatred towards the Japanese, starting locally. He starts writing letters to a man named Kiku Honda. As they exchange letters a strong friendship grows.I wrote this in 2014 and originally uploaded it on Fanfiction.net. I will most likely never finish this.
Relationships: icepan - Relationship
Kudos: 4





	Letters In the Morning

Emil sits in his favorite chair at the kitchen table, the one right across the window so he could stare out it while still appearing to be paying attention to the conversation. He can hear the bacon sizzling as his mother focuses on making breakfast for his family. To be completely honest, he's just glad she's not trying to talk to him since that never goes well, and most likely never will. They just can't seem to see eye-to-eye about anything.

He just come back from delivering the paper, and now he's finally reading it for himself. As much as he tries, he can't ignore how much of it's about the war, and how much more there is about it now that the United States has entered it.

"Japs out on our streets again." his mother mutters underneath her breath, and he wonders if she even means for him to hear. "Trying to move into our neighborhood."

The neighbors had hung signs up, proclaiming that this was a "white man's neighborhood" and they weren't welcome, but they came anyway. As they should, Emil thinks, flipping the page of the flimsy paper.

"Nothing wrong with that." Emil says, not even looking up from his paper.

Though his parents had always brushed it off as not knowing enough or perhaps not understanding, he really doesn't approve of how they're treating their fellow Americans. They're citizens too, so they should be treated like it. There's no reason in his opinion to suspect that they're spying on them. Besides, if they're going to win this war, they'll need the support of all of their citizens, including them.

His mother shakes her head and flips an egg. She hates that he acts like he knows more than her when he obviously doesn't. They're the cause of the problems in their country and he should know that. She sighs again and lays out the plates before fixing them. She watches as they enter a house and frowns. They're not even allowed to be on this block let alone in a house!

"Call the cops." She says turning towards her husband.

"They're allowed to live here. You can't just ban them because they're not white." Emil turns and glares at her, starting to get up. "The cops can't even do anything."

At least, as far as he knows they can't. They can say they won't allow them here as much as they want but they can't force them to leave. He thinks that's how it works, but he's not really sure to tell the truth.

"Will you shut up Emil?" She harshly asks. "You need to stop acting like this is okay! They're awful people and deserve to die!" She puts down the spatula and cleans her hands. "They're doing and causing awful things to this wonderful country!"

"What are they doing?" Emil snaps. He doesn't care if he'll be punished for this outburst, he just wants to know why she hates them when she has no reason to. "They're probably as loyal to this country as you and me."

All she can do is sigh. "Go to your room." She whispers. This is the last thing she wants to argue about this and he's being an ass at the moment. "I'll come and get you when lunch is ready."

Emil shakes his head and stands his ground. "Not until you tell me what they're doing that's so wrong."

He's sure she won't have an answer, and at this point he's determined to win this. She hasn't even talked to the family down the street, so she won't know anything about them. If they have done something wrong, she won't be able to use that in this argument.

"Pearl Harbor Emil." She whispers. "All those peoples lives that were lost. They betrayed us!" She sits down. "They're allied with the nazis!"

"They live in America! The family down the street didn't have anything to do with Pearl Harbor." He looks at her intensely and sighs. "Why do you assume that just because they're from Japan means they had a part in this?"

"Because they're Japanese!" She yells as she stands up. She's cut off by her son though causing her to get even more enraged. "Go to your room now!"

Emil opens his mouth to reply to her and tell her he won't but he's slapped hard across the face, leaving a bright red mark on his cheek.

"Go now!" she yells louder, causing him to reluctantly comply, unless he'd rather have her get his father to punish him instead.

She listens as her son hurries up the steps and collapses into the chair. Emil slams his door as hard as he can and throws the clock of his nightstand causing it to shatter. He hates her so much. He'd rather live with someone else but that's not possible since he's too young and there's really no one that would take him in.

Emil collapses onto his bed, laying back once he calms down some. He can't stand living with her or his father, with these people that don't seem to understand that their neighbors aren't automatically awful people or disloyal for coming from a specific country. He doubts they're even Japanese since they were only assuming that from their appearance. For all they know they could be from someplace completely different.

Emil sighs softly and yawns. He's tired at the moment since he has to always get up so early in the morning. Maybe he'll write some later. As he rolls on his side and stares at the wall, he wonders why people always judge them. They're all completely innocent as far as he's aware. The attack was a few weeks ago and there hasn't been a single sign that it was planned by Japanese people hiding here.

Emil covers up with the blanket, still pondering over this. It honestly makes no sense to him. His mother would say that it's because he has trouble understanding issues like this, but that's not it. The whole thing just makes no sense. Why would they even suspect that when they probably weren't even born there?

As the day wears on Emil paces his room thinking of the situation. Finally he sits down in his desk chair. He yawns and pulls out a sheet of paper. Maybe he could write some before bed.

He runs his fingertips over the smooth piece of paper and sighs. What is there to write about, really? He could write of his day, or write another letter to his brother in college, but there isn't much else he can think of. Once he's finally come up with an idea and decides what he'll write, he presses his pencil against the paper and begins to write the letter. He really wants to talk to this one guy he always delivers the paper to. He always seems so depressed and they only watch each other. Emil thinks of his name for a moment. Kiku? Yeah that's right, he thinks.

As he writes the letter, he's not even aware of the tiny smile appearing on his face. His head is full of thoughts of how this could lead to them becoming friends or at least making Kiku's day a little better. After he signs his name, he folds the paper and finds an envelope.

Emil hears his mother yelling at him to go to bed and quickly turns off the light. He sighs softly and folds the letter before taping it shut. Emil really does hope they can be friends, even if that'll upset his mother. Maybe that's part of the reason he does. Slowly he lays in the bed silently listening to the crickets chirping outside and finally smiles to himself as he falls asleep  
\----As Emil sets out on his paper route the next morning, he can feel the letter weighing down his sweater pocket slightly. Kiku's family lives on one of the last streets he visits, so the entire way he's struggling to focus. When he finally comes to their house and slips the letter into their mailbox, he hopes he'll get one back.

Kiku watches from the window as the strange boy rides off. He seems like a nice kid but would probably never want to talk to him. No one ever seems to want to. Once the boy's gone he hurries outside and grabs the paper sticking out of the mailbox, along with something else. He notices the bright blue letter with a white ribbon tied around it and immediately wonders who's it from.

Kiku turns the letter over in his hands, noticing the small, angular writing on the front, spelling out his first name. He frowns, trying to think of why it would only have his name on it with no stamp or address. Once he gets up to his room after answering a few questions from his father, who's already leaving for work, he opens it to reveal a handwritten letter with some of the words smeared. He unfolds it carefully and begins to read it, all the while wondering who would be sending him a letter in the first place.

Kiku reads over the tiny and messy handwriting, causing a smile come to his face after a moment of reading.

'Dear Kiku,

Hello my name is Ice. Just call me that. I've seen you around on the streets lately and I can tell that you're upset. I've seen people call out at you and make fun of you due to your race. I just came to let you know you have one friend out there, even if you don't know my name. I hope we can be good friends and continue to talk through out this rough time.

Signed, Ice'

As he looks back over the short letter, he smiles again and folds it back up, deciding that he'll need to write back to him. He thinks about just how nice it is of him to take the extra time to write this and drop it off to him when he probably has to hurry along and drop the rest of his papers off. It's strange that he'd notice that he was upset though, since he doesn't remember being particularly upset around him or even seeing him face to face before. Just how much had he been watching him to know that? He pushes the thought aside and sets the letter down so he can reply to it later.

Kiku moves around the house cleaning it again for the first time in a while. They letter keeps slipping into his mind and eventually he has to sit down and reads it over. It's sweet to him. Kiku grabs a piece of paper and starts to jot down a letter to Ice. He wonders if that's his real name but knows better. No one would name their child that? Unless the western culture is stranger than he thought. Kiku folds up the paper and looks around for something to put it in.

After ten minutes or so of searching, he finds a box in his father's office. He looks at the plain white envelopes and sighs at how boring his will be in comparison to Ice's. He wonders if he should try to find out his address but remembers that the newspaper boy's the one dropping them off. He writes his name, or nickname most likely, neatly on the front and seals the envelope. Hopefully he won't think his reply too dull.

Kiku puts the letter in the mailbox quickly and slips back inside. All he can hope is that Ice will actually want to keep talking to him. Kiku closes and locks the door before turning around and looking at the dark house. He really wonders if they'll actually be friends and maybe meet each other one day.

He remembers his parents always being worried that he didn't have many friends, and they would keep trying to set up playdates with other nice kids, only from families they knew of course. This is the kind of thing they'd love to hear about, if only they would actually listen to him. He knows they have bigger things to worry about than his social life at this point though.

After getting back inside, he tries not to think about the letter at all. He has things to do and it's best to not have his mind too occupied by that. Occasionally, his mind slips back to it though and he wonders what exactly Ice will think of it or if he'll get another letter. He didn't specifically request a reply from him, but he asked some questions so he's hopefully more likely to get a reply, even if his letter is boring.


End file.
